Page 60 of Keeping 13

More vomiting.

“That’s it,” Gibsie coaxed, dabbing his mouth once more. “Puke out all the expensive Class A drugs. Good job. Let the water wash your sins and wages down the drain.”

My phone began to ring loudly in my pocket and I frowned, my eyes shifting to Gibsie. “You’re here.”

Gibsie rolled his eyes. “I’m not the only one with your number.”

After wiping my hand on my T-shirt, I slipped my hand into my pocket and dragged out my phone. “Shite.” I stared at the name displayed on the screen and groaned. “It’s my ma.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Gibsie joined me in groaning. “She knows, doesn’t she? Of course she fucking does.” He continued to scrub Joey down as he ranted. “She probably has a tracker on your ass.”

“Get off me,” Joey slurred, slapping at Gibsie’s hand. “Christ.”

“Keep him quiet,” I warned, eye-balling Gibsie as I clicked ACCEPT and put the phone on speaker. “Ma, how’s it going?”

“Johnny, love,” Mam sighed down the phone. “Are you alright? You took a long time answering me.”

“I’m grand, Ma. What’s up?”

“Oh, love, I was calling to let you know that I might not—”

“Stop!” Joey groaned loudly. “It burns.”

Gibsie and I both froze and stared at each other in horror.

“What burns?” Mam demanded. “Are you okay?”

“Fuck me!” Joey continued to flinch and hiss. “It’s too hot.”

Glaring at Gibsie, I mouthed “Shut him up.”

Gibsie gaped back at me, whisper-hissing “How?”

Give me strength…I aimed the hose at his face and mouthed “With your hand, genius!”

With water spluttering from his own lips, Gibsie slapped a hand over Joey’s mouth and I nodded in approval. Leaning over the tub, I adjusted the setting on the shower and lowered the temperature of the water. “Happy now?” I mouthed, glaring at Joey as I hosed him down.

“Johnny? Is Gerard messing with the cooker again?” Mam asked, sounding flustered. “Tell that boy he better not touch the matches. There’s a hole melted into the extractor fan from his last outing with flammables.”

“That wasyou!” Gibsie mouthed, outraged.

“No, Ma, he’s not cooking.” Shaking my head, I looked up to the ceiling and blurted the first thing that came to mind: “That was just some fella on the television.”

“The television?”

“Yeah, we’re, ah—” Narrowing my eyes, I aimed the hose at a stubborn chunk of puke on Joey’s shoulder. “We’re watching a film.”

“Oh, Johnny,” Mam grumbled. “Not one of those dirty ones. The doctors warned you to avoid interfering with yourself until your stitches heal completely.”

Gibsie snickered.

Jesus Christ.I let my head fall back in silent despair. “No, Ma, we’re watching…”

“You’re watching what, Johnny?”

“My Left Foot!” Gibsie blurted out loudly. “For the leaving cert, Mammy K!”

“I’m doingGatsby, ya bollox,”I mouthed, glaring.

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